Dishonored: Extras
by joelcoxriley
Summary: These are "deleted scenes" that I wanted to put in Dishonored, but scrapped them to here.
1. When Angels Cry

**Hello! This is a collection of "deleted scenes" for Dishonored. These scenes are ones I wanted to put in, but felt that they had no point on the jist of things. The first few will be in the past of the chapters, but it will consist with the timeline of the story. These are mainly for fun, and to highlight on some of the character's relations with each other. Please enjoy! I do not own any of the Spyro characters.**

* * *

The sound of heavy rain pounding on the castle walls kept Silas awake as he stared blankly up at the cobblestone ceiling supported by massive wooden beams. His dilated pupils swiftly contracted as light briefly burst through the stained windows, followed by the dull roar of thunder in the distance. The wind moaned loudly as it battered the wooden shutters, making the dark corridors and halls of the castle seem haunted.

Silas' steel eyes were pulled away from the soot stained ceiling to the small, unlit candle on the table, the dried wax falling, but never touching the metal rim that contained it. Inhaling deeply, the knight could smell of the old fumes of wax and damp stone from the storm.

The man shifted, his breathing quiet as he heard the soft, steady breathings of his fellow knights within the room. Hearing the creak of a door opening, Silas sat up, the covers off his bare chest and stomach as he saw the soft glow of a candle enter the room. The light was being covered by a hand, and the person softly closed the door behind them, the figure pausing as the door creaked. The person stood still for several seconds, as if seeing if everyone was asleep before walking deeper into the room, their bare feet slapping against the cobblestone. Silas sighed softly before allowing himself to fall back on his bed, and hard mattress hurting his back as he briefly covered his eyes, rubbing them.

"Go to sleep, Berend..." Silas groaned softly, sensing that the boy had stopped near his bed, the small candle in his hand.

"I can't, Silas. You know the thunder scares me." Berend whispered softly, his voice shaking as he stood in his pajamas. Berend's eyes looked at his cousin with anxiety, his whole body trembling as the wind began to howl, and the flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room. The sound of thunder caused Berend to jump, and the candle flew out of his hand only to softly clang onto the floor, and wick smoldering as the flame died.

Silas paused, listening for any signs that his fellow knights heard the noise. He could hear nothing but the rapid breathing of his younger kin in panic.

"Enough of this, Berend. Go to bed." Silas ordered, then turned his back towards his cousin.

"Quinn says it's dragons, Sila. The thunder are their roars, and the wind is their wings! Sila!" Berend whispered in desperation, Silas shifting.

"Dragons are not real. Go to bed. And do not call me Sila." Silas groaned, feeling Berend poke his naked shoulder, whispering "Sila" over and over again.

"Sila, Sila, Sila, Sila, Sila, Sila...please, Sila? I'll keep poking you and calling you Sila, Sila. S-" Berend suddenly heard the young man exhale slowly, his chest deeply moving down before filling again.

"Good Lord, alright, alright!" Silas hissed, giving up as he turned towards Berend and moved over, the boy grinning from ear to ear as he jumped into the stiff bed, kneeing his cousin in the stomach.

"Oppps. Sorry, Sila." Berend apologized, grinning sheepishly as he hogged the covers, wrapping himself in them before burrowing himself into the wall of warmth that was Silas. Silas sighed, feeling Berend shake from fear before wrapping his arm around the boy in a source of comfort.

"Do not be afraid. It is just a storm."

"But Quinn said-"

"Quinn knows not what he speaks of. Do you want to know what thunder truly is?" Silas asked, Berend nodding his head swiftly.

"Thunder is made by-"

"Dragons?" Berend asked, Silas sighing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No. Dragons are not real, Berend."

"Backen is real!" Berend shouted, eyes going wide, as if hurt.

"Backen is a wooden dragon toy that I had as a boy, and now you have it. In that case, yes, Backen is real because he is an object, but he is not an actual dragon. Dragons are not real, Berend."

"But-"

"Enough. You have me off topic." Silas sighed, pausing to think.

"Where was I? Ahh, yes. You see, Berend, what happens when you laugh very hard?" Silas asked, Berend looking at him with confusion.

"My tummy begins to hurt." Berend answered, Silas shifting slightly.

"Yes, but what else?"

"I can't breathe."

"And? What else happens when you find something very humourous?" Silas asked, Berend pausing in thought, feeling his face redden.

"Silas, are you tricking me?" Berend asked, Silas looking at the boy.

"No, Berend. I'm not tricking you. Come on, what else?"

"I...cry?"

"Yes! Yes, that is it!"

"Who cries, Silas? Who cries?" Berend asked, Silas smiling gently.

"The angels cry, Berend. And the thunder is their laughter." Silas answered, the boy pausing in thought.

"But what if it is just raining? They aren't laughing, so why are they sad?" Berend asked, Silas looking sullenly before clearing his throat.

"Because...they mourn for our hardships. When you see it raining, do you feel like doing anything?"

"No."

"See? In a way, the angels cry to reflect our moods. But when there is a storm, they cry because they are laughing." Silas spoke softly, as if speaking to a toddler. Berend smiled, eyes shining as he looked at the young man with admiration.

"See? The thunder does not seem as scary does it?" Silas asked, Berend shaking his head, comfortable in the covers. Outside, it appeared that the rain had died down to only a drizzle.

"Silas, why are you still up? Can't you sleep?" Berend asked, Silas sniffing as he shook his head.

"I fear not. Too many things plague my mind." Silas spoke, Berend climbing in him, looking at him with curiosity.

"Like what? Are you secretly a girl, Sila?" Berend asked, Silas looking at the boy oddly as he raised an eyebrow.

"What? How can I be a woman when I am a man?" Silas asked, Berend smiling as he pulled out a cloth from under his shirt, handing it to Silas. Silas' eyes widened upon realizing it was his scarf.

"You little sneak! Where did you get that?" Silas hissed, taking the green scarf and folding it properly.

"In your pocket. Why do you have a woman's scarf, Sila? Do you have a lady friend?"

"Good God, you ask a lot of questions!" Silas groaned, just wanting to sleep. His cousin could drain the energy out of him anyday of the week.

"Is it Dushess Anaya?" Berend asked, Silas groaning before hiding his head under the pillow. He could practically feel his younger kin break into a smile.

"Silas and Anaya, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, firs-" Berend was cut off as Silas suddenly smacked him in the face with his pillow.

"Hey, not fair!" Berend whined, growling as he found himself in a tight hold, Silas easily pinning him as he rubbed his knuckles in his hair.

"You idiot! Let me go! I'll tell Anaya it was you that ran down the halls naked when you were drunk!" Berend flailed, feeling Silas dig his knuckles farther into his hair.

"Oh, yeah? I will tell Father that you still wet your bed at eight winters!" Silas chuckled, Berend struggling even harder.

"You would not! Sila!" Berend cried, struggling to fight back through the covers.

"Stop calling me Sila."

"No! You're really a girl in disguise! I can see the truth!" Berend cried, laughing as he continued to struggle.

"Say uncle."

"No!"

"Say it."

"No!"

"Say uncle, Berend!" Silas whispered harshly, Berend moving every which way, unable to break the man's grip.

"Okay, okay, uncle!" Berend cried, immediately feeling his cousin release him, the boy panting.

"Did that hurt so bad?" Silas asked hoping the boy would seek sleep after this.

"Yes." Berend pouted, Silas laughing softly as he lay on his back, Berend suddenly yawning.

"Can you sleep now?" Silas asked, Berend rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake.

"I'm tired." Berend stated, his eyes slowly shutting before fluttering open.

"Silas?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're my favorite cousin." Berend smiled, Silas chuckling softly as he put his hands under his head.

"I am your only cousin." Silas stated, falling silent as he watched his kin lose his battle with death's second self, the knight listening to the steady stream of rain as his mind wondered.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed! This is just the first of few, but I wanted to show the bond of family. Others that I plan to do will be Ember and Flame(possibly on Flame's death), Spyro and Cynder(when Cynder left to hunt...but never returned) and Silas and Anaya(discussing Silas' plan to join the Teutonic Knights). These will be in the past, so from then on they will begin to match up with the story. Please review if you feel like it. :). Also, Bracken is German for Jaws. **


	2. Chains

**Hello readers! This one is focusing on Silas and Anaya. Why? Because Anaya was killed off without much character development, and because of that readers fail to understand the deep connection Silas and Anaya share. Though this is just brief glimpse into their relationship. **

* * *

"Are you ready for your riding lesson, Anaya?" Silas asked, the sound of hooves hitting the dirt ground as he led a paint mare towards the Duchess. Anaya's blue eyes widened softly as large mare approached her, ears twitching and mane gently blowing in the cool wind.

"Oh, my...can I start with the pony?" Anaya asked, Silas chuckling as he shook his head, flower petals and leaves being shepherded across the small meadow.

"No, I fear not, darling!" Silas grinned, firmly tugging the mare by her reigns, whistling.

"Say 'hello', Ada." Silas spoke, Anaya laughing as the mare nuzzled her, lips outstretched as she awaited for any food the human may have had.

"Hello, Ada. I fear I do not have any food for you." Anaya spoke, smiling as she stroked the horse's snout before pulling away as the mare began to nip at her hair.

"She likes you, Anaya. Well, now that the introductions are exchanged, shall we begin?" Silas asked, Anaya nodding as both smiled.

"Do not worry. Ada is a gentle girl, are you not?" Silas asked the mare, Ada snorting, as if to respond as the knight patted her flank.

"I am so glad it is spring. I miss spending these days with you." Anaya commented, smiling as Silas briefly looked at her before buckling the straps and saddle in place.

"Absolutely! It would do you well to be outside more than cramped in the castle walls." Silas agreed before muttering, "And do some work for a change." Anaya's mouth opened, the woman unable to speak as Silas laughed.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" Silas asked, feigning innocence.

"You are very rude!" Anaya stated, putting her hands on her hips in mock anger.

"And I do work, I helped when you built a chicken coop." Anaya countered, Silas crossing his arms over his chest.

"All you did was hand me that nails." Silas smirked, laughing. "Of course, I was fine with that. Your father would have my head if you so much as broke a nail."

"Oh, yes, because Father is such a slavedriver." Anaya replied, rolling her eyes, a smile permanently plastered on her face.

"Yes, I can see that it runs in the family." Silas dodged a playful smack, easily stepping out of her reach.

"Curse your tallness!" Anaya cried, laughing as she pursued him, the pair completely forgetting about the horse as Ada began to graze on the grass.

"Oh, terror! Flee from the Duchess and her iron rule!"

"Oh, dear! I fear you have found me out!" Anaya shrieked in play, kicking off her heels as Silas gently grabbed her attacking wrist, his canines showing.

"Oh, yes! Your reign of forcing my kin to do useless tasks shall not do unavenged!" Silas cried, Anaya snorting as she burst out in laughter again, her face beginning to heavily flush.

"You are the one that gives Berend useless tasks! That poor misguided child!"

"Berend is perfectly fine under my guidance. My useless tasks keep him out of trouble and away from us." Silas explained, Anaya playfully pulling her hand from his grasp.

"You horrible person! Is he still looking for unicorns in the forest?" Anaya asked, Silas chuckling.

"You are speaking of a boy who believes in dragons." Silas replied, Anaya's eyes narrowing as she smiled fiendishly.

"Truly? He sounds like a boy I once knew." Anaya purred gently, Silas grinning softly.

"Hmmm, truly?"

"Oh course! Haha! Except that boy was more of an idiot."

"Now you went and wounded my manly feelings. All one of them." Silas spoke, slightly rolling his eyes as Anaya stuck out her tongue.

"Awe, you poor baby!"

"Yes! A real Duchess you are! Such womanhood!" Silas exclaimed, teasing as Anaya mocked rage.

"My womanhood? What of your knighthood, Sir Adler?" Anaya asked, putting emphasis on his title as the man dropped his arms.

"What of it? I cannot help that my Duchess is so needy." Silas grinned, Anaya snorting slightly.

"Needy? I fear it is you that needs me."

"Oh? With all due respect, you lie, Dear Duchess." Silas replied, Anaya's eyes narrowing slightly, hands on her hips.

"Really, now? Do tell." Anaya asked, Silas smiling smugly.

"Do you remember the time that I became injured when a lance broke through my armor?" Silas asked softly, his voice suddenly quiet as Anaya's eyes fell to the ground, her soft lips slowly parting.

"Yes. Yes, I do." The woman responded, producing a smile laden with hurt.

"And what did you do?" The knight asked, his stormy eyes boring into the woman as she produced a soundless chuckle.

"I never left your side until you could get out of bed. Everyday, I would clean and dress your wound, cook you food, sing you lullabies to help you fall asleep despite the pain, to try and make you forget about the fever, and pain. W...When you would sleep..." Anaya paused, piercing her lips as crystalline tears began to fill her eyes. Silas' playful mood evaporated, his brow creasing in worry as he looked at the woman, his hand firmly clasping Anaya's smaller hand. The woman's eyes locked onto Silas' and she saw the mix of emotions that his eyes contained, whirling around like a storm. Love. Admiration. Concern. Nervousness. It was all there. Anaya smiled, but the smile quickly turned into a slight frown as tears slowly ran down her flushed cheeks.

"When you would sleep...I could never sleep. I would watch you, almost every night, and, and see you writhe in pain from the fever. I could not take my eyes off of you, because I feared that if I did, you would stop breathing. I watched every breath you took, and would pray to God that it would not be your last. Oh, God, Silas, I prayed so hard. I was terrified of losing you, and I still am." Anaya admitted softly, wiping her eyes with her free hand as Silas paused, digesting the words.

"Anaya...you did not have to do that." Silas spoke, at a loss for words as the woman looked up at him, shaking her head.

"I did what I did to help you. All my life you have been there for me, ever since we were children, and it was the least I could do to help you, perhaps even save you. You need not worry about me anymore, Silas. It is my turn to protect you." Anaya stated, the woman suddenly looking at the ground as she shook her head.

"Please, stop lying..." Anaya begged, suddenly breaking down into sobs as she desperately grabbed onto the man's arms, her nails digging into his skin.

"A-Anaya? Wh-"

"Stop lying to protect me, Silas! Please, just stop! I know it is you! I know! I do not care if my life ends for it is of my own actions, but I shall not have one I love die for me! I-" Anaya was cut off as Silas suddenly grabbed her face, his weight causing Anaya to step back a few steps, faces mere inches apart.

"Do not say that! Never say that! If anyone shall die it will be him! Do not throw your life away for a bone conjurer! Cut him off, cut him off! Your business with him is over, Anaya, it has been over since you aided Creedy! He is but a loose end! Please, please, I implore you, not as a knight but as a...a friend!" Silas begged, Anaya shaking her head, the stream continuing.

"I cannot, Silas, I cannot. I am too far in his dealings..."

"Once! You aided him once! Anaya, cut him off before something terrible befalls you or he both. If you do not then I shall!" Silas cried in frustration, his breath beginning to quicken.

"No, Silas...he is a good man!" Anaya stuttered, Silas' mouth agape in slight shock.

"A...a good man? A good man? The man is a blasphemer! Summons the dead-desecrates corpses-commits sin and you call him a good man?! How can you not see that he will be the death of you?!" Silas roared, Anaya beginning to shrink into herself.

"I know...I know, Silas, God I know..." Anaya broke off, voice faltering as her breath hitched.

"Is death what you want?" Silas asked, harshness leaving his voice as the woman looked up at him, her eyes piercing into his. Anaya hiccuped as she felt the knight wipe away her drying tears.

"No. I do not want this. I know...that is I die, Silas...I know you will try to protect me. And I know that you will most likely die trying. I can...I cannot...be like that. It kills me, it kills my soul to know that I will be your reason for death. Even now, I can see the pain that I have caused in your eyes, and I cannot bear it. I cannot if it means you being in pain." Anaya whispered softly, the pair quieting as Silas released a shaky sigh.

"What do you truly want?" Silas asked softly, Anaya's lip trembling as he asked. No one has ever asked her that simple question.

"Freedom." Anaya's voice was barely but a whisper, "I want to be free from rules, free from statuses, and roles. I feel like I am trapped, like I cannot breathe, like I am a bird in a stone cage where I can do nothing but waste my life away and watch the world pass me by. What I want...is to see the oceans that I have only seen in paintings, to see cities that I have only read about, to...to climb upon the highest mountain peaks like I have in my dreams, to meet new people and travel to strange lands and have adventures. But more than that...I want you to be happy, Silas. That is truly all I want." Anaya smiled, a genuine smile as hope and love filled her eyes. Silas' eyes softened, a weak chuckle escaping his lips.

"I think we should focus on traveling to the ocean then. I have never seen one myself." Silas admitted, Anaya looking upon him with confusion.

"Truly? But...what of your happiness?" Anaya asked, frowning slightly as the man smiled.

"Anaya, are you blind? Being with you...well, that is all I need to make me happy." Silas spoke softly, the woman's eyes widening in slight shock, before Anaya began to bounce up and down with excitement.

"Oh, happy days!" Anaya cried, Silas grunting as he was pulled down by her short height from her arms wrapping around his neck, delivering a tender kiss. The pair parted, a goofy grin plastered on the woman's face, now a deep shade of scarlet as Silas froze, flushing. Anaya could feel his heart pulse in terror, or was it nervousness? Anger even? No, not anger.

"I love you, Silas." Anaya suddenly blurted, a foolish grin still on her face as the man looked at her, eyes wide.

"I..." Silas stuttered, looking at the woman for any signs of distrust. Surely she meant as a friend, yes? Or...something more? Was that it? More? Silas could feel his heart pound wildly against his ribs, and as much as he wished to speak he found himself frozen. He couldn't bring himself to say those few words that meant so much. It appeared that the imprint of society upon him was keeping him silent. A knight that was the son of a slave in love a Grand Duchess? Impossible. His blood would only cause her ruin.

Without warning, Silas embraced the woman, Anaya yelping as he hoisted her off the ground slightly. Silas buried his head in her nape, inhaling her scent as she felt the woman return his embrace.

"Silas? Silas, what is wrong?" Anaya asked gently, feeling the young knight's shoulders heave slightly. He was crying.

"Shhhh, it is alright. It is alright, Silas." Anaya soothed, feeling her heart break. She had never seen Silas cry. The man that she had known from childhood was too honorable, too brave, too strong to cry. She was always the one crying, and Silas would always be there. No matter what, he was always there. Now she had to be here for him. Just like she had to protect him.

"It appears that I am not strong enough to break my bonds that I am chained in." Silas spoke, sighing as he kissed the woman's hair before pulling away, Anaya regretfully obiding.

"Do not say that, Silas. You are strong." Anaya responded, the knight shaking his head.

"I fear you are wrong, Anaya. But I promise, when the time comes for me to break those bonds, I shall not fail you. I promise."

"I do not doubt you, Silas. I shall never doubt you."

"I am glad." Silas replied, smiling softly as Anaya mimicked the facial feature.

"Now, then...shall we actually start your riding lesson?"

* * *

**Yup. I didn't specify where the kiss was, so decide for yourself where, or if their love is purely romantic or friendship. Personally, I support this couple. But I know others lean to Silas and Ember. :P oh well, I hope you liked their chemistry! Have a good day. **


	3. Knight's Musing

**This deleted scene is rather random, and takes place shortly after the previous with Silas musing over what Anaya said to him. **

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Lord, I am such a fool." Silas muttered softly to himself as he finished securing Ada's stall, the mare shaking her now harness free head before snorting.

"I am thrilled that you agree." The man spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice as the knight leaned heavily against a wooden beam and sighed.

Silas remained quiet as he stared at the far wall, lost in thought. He just could not stop thinking about the tenderness of her lips on his. They were warm and soft, and in their wake had left an odd tingling feeling that the knight could not help but crave.

A sudden wave of nervousness and cold terror struck the young man's heart as his fingers lightly brushed against his own lips, the odd sensation remaining even after the physical contact. Silas felt his heart quicken in cold fear upon the realization that his Duchess had indeed kissed him, and that it had not been a waking dream.

Thoughts began to whirl around the mind of the knight as a numbness began to set in, and Silas' breathing increased as his worries rose. A terrifying thought had suddenly occurred. He had never kissed her back. Their argument had seemed to be a haze, the pair going through their usual disagreement of opinions, and it had always ended the same way. Anaya had always won. Always. Silas had always backed down from an argument with his Duchess, yielding in order to appease her and allow her calm of mind. Then the pair would continue their activities until the topic came up again-which was becoming more and more frequent. But this time, the ending had shifted. Silas' emotional shell had began to crack, and for the first time since they were children, he had shown the overwhelming strain of grief that had been plaguing his soul.

Almost every time the pair had their disagreements over the Necromancer, Silas had begun to feel like he was failing his dear Duchess. Again, and again the young knight had tried to make Anaya see the failed reasoning behind her decision to aid the odd man. She claimed it was for Creedy, claimed that she was too far into the Necromancer's dealings to back out, but deep down, Silas had known the truth. He always had. Anaya was getting her desire for freedom from a man that lived on the very fringes of society. And he was going to get her killed.

Silas could not help but form his hands into tight fists, his arms shaking slightly in frustration. Why could not she see how hard he tried to make her realize that that man was leading her to her death? Was she truly that daft? That naive? Surely she was not! She knows the consequences of Necromancy! She knows the consequence is death!

Without thinking, Silas swiftly pulled out a green with embroidered gold scarf as he stared at it, his hands roughly creasing the silk. Looking upon it, Silas never felt the urge to just tear the delicate scarf in half so strongly. What was the point in having it if he was too much of a coward to give it to a woman that he dearly cherished? It was just a waste of coin he spent on it. What was the point if that woman was even with another man? She obviously did not harbor the same feelings he had for her. Otherwise she would have waited. Or...maybe she did?

Silas' steel eyes suddenly softened as he released his hold on the gentle fabric. What if she did? What if the reason she refused to get married was because of him? But...was she not with the Necromancer? Did he not take the knight's place as Anaya's companion? She had to be. What was she doing for almost a year in his absence?

Silas froze in thought, horrified. It was not the first time this thought had crossed his mind. The thought of the Necromancer being anywhere near his Duchess terrified the knight to no end. Surely something had to have happened. Any man would be insane to not pursue the Duchess of Bavaria. Yet...the day Silas had returned from Rome...he had never seen her happier. Anaya had ran towards him and jumped upon the man, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him. Again and again she kissed the young man, cold tears streaming down her cheek as she smiled at him, breathless. The woman appeared...more stressed, as if she had been worrying about the knight the whole time during his leave. Ever since Silas had returned not a week ago, Anaya had refused to leave his side. And while Silas may have returned her embrace and dried her tears, not once did he return one of her many kisses upon their bated reunion. Even when her soft lips touched his during the pair's disagreement earlier today, he still did not return the kiss.

It worried the knight. What if the reason she did not allow her hand to be claimed in marriage was not for the Necromancer, but Silas himself? Through all their time together, Anaya had never mentioned the man unless the topic was pushed by Silas himself. Perhaps...she was not romantically involved the man? But if not, why would she keep going to him? But what if she was not? During their time together, Anaya had not once displayed any desire in finding out the Necromancer. She had been too enraptured in her knight, listening to Silas tell of strange lands to which she loved to hear.

Guilt suddenly overwhelmed the young man. If only he had known what she wanted, if only she had told him sooner. Silas would have been more than happy to take his beloved with. It was unfair that he could travel to foreign places while his lady was trapped like a bird in a cage under the supervision of her uncle. And what if she truly had the feelings that Silas himself had for her? If she did, Silas was pushing her away in his foolishness.

Silas dared not look away from the scarf, lost in thought as he battled in his mind. What if she truly did care for him, and he had hurt her with his rejection. She had kissed him, yet he had never truly kissed her back. She had professed her love to him, yet...he had never said those simple words back, he had never said those words that meant so much to her. What if by refusing her unintentionally, he had broken her heart?

Silas could not help but pale as he felt his blood freeze in terror. What if she truly did mean those words-and by something more than friendship? Or...what if that was all she meant? Friendship, companionship. After all, what can a mere knight give to a beautiful woman that a Duke could not? Silas could not offer her fine jewelry, clothing, status, a chance to rule the Kingdom one day. He was simply outclassed by her more noble suitors.

Thinking back to what his lady had said earlier in the day, Silas found his worries leaving some as he remembered her words. Anaya wanted to be free from roles, free from statuses. She would not want to marry a noble. She would be completely trapped in a stone cage. But then...were she to take a lesser man's hand...how would she be free?

Silas felt his heart lurch and sink once more as a thought crossed his mind. Even if he did claim her hand, he would never be able to give her what she would want. Silas simply did not have enough money to allow his Duchess to travel. With another noble, however, she could travel to lands in the Eastern Sea, in the far East were silk comes from.

But if she did truly love him as much as he hoped...would wealth even matter? Surely it would not. Despite his reassuring thoughts, Silas could not help worry if he was fooling himself. If she genuinely meant friendship, and he confessed his love for her romantically he would make himself look like a fool. Or worse, what if he frightened his dear Duchess and ruined their friendship that has lasted since childhood? What if she could never look at him the same way again, could not stand to look in his direction, or even tolerate his presence?

Silas groaned in dismay, leaning his back against the wall as he covered his face, head shaking. He had no idea how to go about this, had no idea what to do, or what to say. Sometimes, Silas just felt like God was making fun of him.

"Oh, Lord, I wish I was better at this..." Silas groaned, pausing to look around the stable as if the answer to his romantical problem would be there. He hated being so inexperienced with women. At least with Anaya.

Sighing, Silas took one last look at the scarf before gently folding it and tucking it away safely. Falling silent, Silas walked toward the entrance of the stables, pausing just before he walked out into the sun to look to where the scarf was hidden. He knew what he needed to do, but the very thought of it terrified the young knight. It was safe to say that Anaya's true emotions frightened him more than any physical challenge that could get him maimed or killed.

Steeling himself, Silas took a deep breath to calm his nerves, but could not stop the underlying fears from leaving his mouth.

"What if I am fooling myself?"

* * *

**It feels to me like this is turning more into a story. I'm not sure if I like it. Either way, I hope you enjoyed! Dishonored will not be updated in a while since I am going on vacation-and The Leper King has been stealing my attention from Dishonored. 'Till next time! **


	4. Father and Daughter

**A very short one shot about Rorek and Phee-Phee.**

* * *

Sophia sat on the floor to her mother's small bedroom, playing with a toy horse. Her mother was busy working, and since no one was there to watch her, Sophia had to stay in the small room until her mother was done. Sometimes, she wouldn't be done working till late in the night.

The small girl's ears perked up as she heard the sound of soft footfalls approaching, Sophia turning her head upon hearing the door open, a man clad in black standing at the entrance. Sophia's face lit up.

"Daddy!" Sophia cried, forgetting her horse suddenly as she ran towards the man who had stooped down on his knees.

Crying, Sophia threw herself on the man, her small arms failing to wrap around his neck as his arms engulfed her. The girl squealed as the man hoisted her off the ground, laughing.

"Hello, Phee-Phee. How is my girl?" Rorek asked, chuckling as the small girl fought against his grip, wriggling like a bear cub.

"Grrr! Let me go!" Sophia cried, laughing as she tried to squirm out of the man's grip in vain, Rorek humming, as if in thought.

"Weeeeeell...I think not!"

"Daddy! I'll lick you!" Sophia warned, her small tongue sticking out as Rorek could do little but endure the childish behavior.

"You can lick me all you want, child. It will not work." Rorek responded, reminding himself that he should scold her for such behavior.

"Why not?" Sophia asked, pausing in her assault as the man looked at her, face blank.

"Because I have cooties." Rorek responded almost dryly, Sophia sticking out her tongue in a disgusted manner.

'Ewwwwie! Daddy has cooties!"

"MmmmHmmm. And what did we learn from this experience?" Rorek asked, Sophia going limp in his grasp, thinking.

"That Daddy has cooties?" Sophia answered, Rorek sighing in response.

"Yes, Daddy has cooties. And now you have cooties, too." Rorek stated, Sophia's eyes going wide in shock.

"Ahh! Daddy, I don't want cooties!" Sophia cried, lip quivering and tears welling in her eyes.

"Then do not lick people. It is unsanitary." Rorek responded, Sophia going silent.

"Daddy, do I have cooties?"

"No, darling."

"...do you really have cooties?"

"No, I do not have cooties." Rorek stated dryly, Sophia's eyes looking off to the side before returning to her father.

"You're bad, Daddy! You lied!"

"Yes, Daddy lied. Lying is bad." Rorek spoke, grunting as Sophia once again tried to lick the man.

"What did I just tell you about licking people?" Rorek asked, Sophia pausing.

"That...licking is bad?"

"And if licking is bad, why do you do it?" Rorek looked the girl in the eyes, the small child pausing, as if in thought.

"I don't know, Daddy." Sophia responded, Rorek going blank.

"What a good answer." Rorek responded, sarcasm dripping off his voice.

"Daddy?" Sophia asked, looking up at the man, Rorek's green eyes meeting hers.

"Yes?"

"If you live to be one hundred, I hope I live to be one hundred minus one day, so I will always have my Daddy." Sophia spoke, smiling as Rorek's eyes widened in shock, tears beginning to well within.

Rorek stayed quiet, for the first time completely unsure of what to say to his child as his throat suddenly dried, and a lump began to form in his throat.

"I...aheh...do you even know what comes before one hundred?" Rorek asked, struggling to hide the emotion in his voice as he changed the subject. Sophia paused, thinking.

"No, I can't count that high." Sophia replied, frowning as the man laughed gently.

"It is ninety-nine you dunce." Rorek replied, laughing.

"I love you, Phee-Phee." Rorek whispered, kissing her brow as the girl giggled.

"I love you, Daddy." Sophia giggled, delivering her own sloppy kiss on the man's cheek.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed! I wanted a more tender moment shown cause Rorek tends to be too creepy. If anyone has an idea for the Extras or wants to see something just message me, cause I'm low on ideas. Also, it is just me, or does The Tragic Truth from FFDP remind me of Rorek A LOT?**


End file.
